


Speaking With Silence - HC

by Korinwae



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 19:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1136745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korinwae/pseuds/Korinwae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My personal head-canon of what happens after the 'Speaking With Silence' quest in the Thieves Guild story.</p>
<p>(apologies for the lame title, I really can't think of anything better)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaking With Silence - HC

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing something properly, so please forgive me if it's a bit rough. And I hope I have tagged it appropriately.

He wakes with a start, the roof of a small tent the first thing he sees.   
"Whe—" intense pain in his chest interrupts him. Memories flood his mind and one person in particular appears before his minds eye.   
"Mercer." he growls. As the encounter in the tomb plays out in his head, he lifts his left hand to the right side of his chest and wonders how he is even alive. Mercer had pierced him through both lungs as he had lain paralyzed on the floor, he should have died in there. As he sits up, his eyes lock on to the kneeling figure by the fire, he recognizes her as the woman from the tomb.   
"Easy there, don’t get up too quickly. You’ve been out of it for the better part of two days." she stands up but keeps her distance.   
"How are you feeling?". He grunts and points at his chest.  
"You shot me! And then Mercer stabbed me, how do you think I feel?". She crosses her arms over her chest.   
"I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.".  
He glances around for his armor but makes sure to keep her in his sight.   
"Why save me?" he spots his armor on top of a chest off to the side and starts moving towards it. Moving made his chest hurt again, but he knew he couldn’t stay here too long or he’d risk Mercer getting away for good.  
"My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get you out of the way and it  prevented your death.".  
He stops and turns to completely face her.   
"Than I am in your debt.". She glares at him as he turns to pick up his armor.   
"More than you’ll ever realize. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for a single shot. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive.". Lifting his arms to pull on his armor elicited a muted grunt from him as another spike of pain emenated from his chest.   
"Why capture Mercer alive?".  
"Mercer must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he’s done. He needs to pay for Gallus’s murder.". He turns his head to look at her.   
"How will you prove it now?".   
"My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn’t simply for irony’s sake. Before you both arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus’s remains. I suspect the information we need is written inside.". He scoffs, it can’t be that easy.   
"Well, what’s it say?". She gets a look of frustration on her face.   
"I wish I knew. The journal is written in some sort of language I’ve never seen before.". Of course, he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.   
"Perhaps it could be translated?". This lights up her face.   
"Enthis…  Gallus’s friend at the College of Winterhold. Of course… He’s the only outsider Gallus ever trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity.". He stops what he is doing and turns his attention to her.   
"There’s that word again, "Nightingale".". She goes silent for a moment and looks Enderian over, seemingly deciding he can be trusted with whatever that word represents.  
"There were three of us. Myself, Gallus and Mercer. We were an anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild in Riften." she looks at him thoughtfully for a moment.   
"Perhaps I’ll tell you more about it later. Right now, you need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation. Here, take these as well, they may prove useful for your journey.". Reaching behind her, she unhooks a few vials of poison from her belt and hands them to him. With a nod he accepts them and puts them away in one of his belt pouches. Taking a deep breath, he straps his quiver to his back and hooks his bow into it. The pain in his chest doesn’t seem to be going away any time soon and he hopes he does not have to test how well he can do in combat like this.  
"Where can I find you once I get a translation?". Wrapping his cloak around him, he turns to face her.  
"I will make my way to Winterhold soon and meet you there, I have something to attend to beforehand.". They nod at eachother and part ways.  
Once he is out of sight of the camp, Enderian considers summoning Arvak but decides against it, the movements of the horse would cause him far too much pain and he does not want to risk re-opening his wounds.  
Pulling out his map, he decides to take a detour down to Windhelm. Hopefully Alfarinn and his carriage would be there when he arrives. He also needs to pick up a new supply of healing potions from the White Phial and something for the pain.

—————-

Faendal refuses to believe what Mercer had said upon his return to the Thieves Guild. He had grabbed the human by his arms and shaken him, screaming that it was a lie before releasing him and running out the back entrance. There was no way that Enderian had died in that tomb, he was- IS the Dragonborn!   
He stops by Honeyside for provisions and coin before heading out to the Riften stables to buy a horse. The poor stable boy barely manages to point out the horse before Faendal is on it’s back and riding off at full gallop.  
Enderian had mentioned to him how he felt something was off about Mercer and because of that he had given Faendal directions to the location of the tomb, in secret, before they left.  
It takes him a full day to get to Windhelm where he decides to buy a new horse so he can continue without another break but before he can do so, Alfarinn calls out to him from next to his carriage.  
"Master Faendal! I was wondering where you were, your husband passed by not long ago and I thought it odd that he was alone.". He IS alive! Faendal almost leaps over to the carriage and grabs the man a bit too roughly by his shoulders.  
"Where is he?!". Alfarinn stares at the elf with some fear in his eyes.  
"H-he said he was going to the White Phial for supplies but he would return afterwards to rent my carriage.". Faendal releases him and starts running towards the gates.

—————

"I’m afraid we only have these 5 potions of healing in stock right now, the Jarl had one of his men come by earlier to take most of our supply for the war and I won’t have time to make more until after hours.". Quintus sighs and turns to dig through a crate behind the counter.  
"I remember you are a bit of an alchemist yourself, so maybe you would like to buy some ingredients to make your own. I will sell them to you at a discounted price for the inconvenience. Aha!" he pulls out a smaller box filled to the brim with blisterwort and places it on the counter in front of Enderian.  
"I also have a bag of wheat over by the alchemy table.". Enderian ponders for a moment before making his decision.  
"I’ll take the potions and the crate of blisterwort, I have other ingredients in my lab at home.". He rubs his chest a bit absentmindedly.  
"Oh, do you happen to have anything for pain?". Quintus frowns and rubs his chin.  
"Hmm, I don’t— Oh! Yes!" he smiles and digs around behind the counter for a few moments.  
"Let’s see… ah, here we go." after brushing off a thin layer of dust from the medium sized bottle, he hands it to Enderian.  
"I would suggest mixing this with some wine before drinking it, the taste is quite bitter I’m afraid. Use this…" he places a small metal measuring cup on the counter "… to measure your doses. I would not recommend going higher than 3 cups in one go and at most twice a day, with your morning and evening meals.". Enderian smiles gratefully and places a large pouch of coins on the counter.  
"Thank you for everything Quintus." Enderian carefully puts the potions into his pack and places the small box of mushrooms under his arm. He bids Quintus farewell and heads for Hjerim.

—————

Faendal storms through the doors to Hjerim.  
"Enderian?!" he runs over to the alchemy room. Not here, where is he?  
"Faendal? Is that you?" Enderian comes down the stairs as Faendal turns the corner. The older elf looks at him quizzically and before he can say anything else, Faendal throws himself at him and holds on tightly.  
"Oof, not so hard love." Faendal loosens his grip a bit but doesn’t let go.  
"What has gotten in to you? Why are you even here?" a horrible thought enters his mind and he grabs Faendal by his shoulders and pushes him away far enough so he can look at the younger elfs face.  
"Did Mercer do something? Are you hurt?" Faendal shakes his head.  
"When he returned to the Guild, he told us that you had…" he takes a deep breath to steady himself "… that you had died in that damn tomb." Enderian sees the pain in his eyes and pulls him into a tight embrace, ignoring the pangs of pain coming from the sides of his chest.  
"Oh my dear Faendal, I am so sorry. It did not occur to me that he would do that.". They stand there in silence for a while before Enderian speaks.  
"We need to go to Winterhold. I will explain everything on the way.". He kisses Faendals forehead before gently breaking out of his embrace.  
"I have provisions packed and ready for the journey, they are over by the door. We need to get going.". Faendal nods and they leave the city together.

**Author's Note:**

> From this point, the quests continue as normal with nothing special happening in regards to Enderian and Faendal, so I’ll just end this here.


End file.
